Scars
by QueenOfAces
Summary: In the aftermath of her aborted wedding to Lex, Clark's steadfast friendship helps Lois navigate the rough waters. One night, however, Lois asks Clark a seemingly trivial question--a question which serves to change both of their lives forever.


Scars

As a reporter, Lois had always known the power of a question. From her earliest days on the job, she had practiced her technique, honing her skills with each new interview. Through hard work and determination, she had learned when to be aggressive and when to be sympathetic, each move calculated to encourage a revelation. Her unique ability had allowed her to rise to the top of her profession, earning her three Kerth awards and top billing at one of the most prestigious papers in the country. How surprising it was, then, that her most important question came as the result of a whim, an expression of idle curiosity destined to change her life forever….

---

In the months following her disastrous near-wedding to Lex Luthor, Lois had become the subject of close scrutiny. Police officers and lawyers questioned her daily, and reporters followed her at all times. They were all seeking the story of the fallen man; the timeless tale of greed, corruption, and power cloaked by benevolence and charm. Lois had been an unwitting victim of Luthor's schemes, but the world viewed her as his fiancée, his confidant. As such, she was one of the few living witnesses able to provide intimate details about the man himself, making her a hot property.

The police quickly determined that she had played no role in Luthor's criminal activity, and the detectives were appreciative of her willingness to cooperate fully. The members of the press, however, were not so quick to release her from responsibility. When she refused to give all but the briefest of statements, news agencies sought other means of gleaning information from the witness. They searched every record imaginable, noting her credit card purchases, her internet searches, her video rentals and library books borrowed. Reporters also combed her old stories in search of bias and sifted through her trash as if searching for gold. Finding nothing of significance, they simply interpreted the data to their own liking. Psychologists and other "experts" analyzed her choices, in effect, creating a character for the public to consume. Lois Lane became whatever they wanted her to be, the script carefully crafted to garner the strongest ratings.

Through it all, Lois sought shelter with her _Planet_ family. She came to the temporary offices of the paper as often as her schedule of police interviews and depositions would allow, pitching story ideas, editing, and working with Clark on his articles. Her place in the media spotlight did not allow her to resume her role as an investigative reporter, but she did her best to contribute to the production of the paper.

Her colleagues, meanwhile, made every effort to shield her from the rest of the world. Perry and Jimmy made sure that she was undisturbed at work, screening her phone calls, visitors, and e-mail messages. They also made sure that negative reports from other media outlets never found their way into the _Planet_ offices. Clark, meanwhile, kept her busy with their stories. He was sensitive to her pain, but he kept her involved with the Luthor investigation so that she could combat the sense of helplessness in her situation. She might have been fooled once, but there was no way that she would allow Luthor to ruin anyone else's life, including her own.

Clark also became Lois' self-appointed bodyguard. He shepherded her to and from her appointments and work, helping her navigate through the ocean of reporters. Superman pitched in on occasion, flying her to remote islands for privacy or allowing her to escape work unseen. Clark took on the bulk of the load, however, staying with Lois at her apartment, bringing her takeout or a movie, or simply giving her a shoulder to cry on.

Drawing their own conclusions, members of the media soon added Clark's character to the soap opera they had created, suggesting that an illicit love triangle played a role in the death of Luthor. Clark handled the media politely, but firmly, repeating again and again that he and Lois were friends and that he was doing his best to help her through a difficult time. Lois and Clark were hounded by photographers for months. For all of their efforts, however, the members of the media could only offer pictures of Clark's hand resting lightly on the small of her back as evidence for their claims.

By the end of the summer, the media frenzy had all but died. Newspapers and television stations had portrayed Lois as a seductress, an adulterer, an innocent victim, a villain, and a cunning gold digger, all with great ratings success. However, her consistent message of "no comment," combined with the results of police investigation, left them with only her boring daily life to present. She got up, went to work, left work, ate dinner, and was supported by her friends. No one wanted to hear about such mundane details.

The Ariana Carlin incident created a brief resurgence in press coverage, but Lois' innocence left the press with little dirt to sell. She and her partner had also scooped them on some exclusives, hurting ratings and circulation figures. Lois Lane was no longer news—she was competition. So, off they went to the next story, the next scandal, leaving Lois with the remnants of her life.

Over time, Lois resumed her involvement with the investigative side of reporting. She reestablished ties with old sources and courted new ones, using her media portrayal to her advantage by playing the role of intimidator or sympathetic victim. Her ego had taken a hit when Clark earned a Kerth nomination, but her jealousy soon faded and they re-established their strong partnership.

She also relished the move into the new _Planet_ building, marveling at the use of space and upgrade in technology. Cat Grant had accepted a job in LA to take advantage of the swimsuit weather, but most of the old staff had happily returned once the newspaper was up to full speed. Lois, like the rest of them, easily fell into her old life of investigating and writing. She worked even harder than she had in the past, feeling responsible for the destruction of her beloved newspaper. She would make the _Planet_ successful or die trying.

The only real change from her previous life was her relationship with Clark. Facing adversity together had brought them closer than they had ever been, and yet a vast forbidden territory lay between them. They never spoke of his declaration of love or his subsequent retraction of that statement, and she never voiced the feelings that led her to call off her wedding to Luthor. Such taboo subjects left them no other option but to play the roles created for the benefit of the press. They were partners and friends—no more, no less. After a while, they even believed it themselves.

---

"Hi, partner," Lois said brightly, favoring Clark with her best smile. "I got us a movie."

"Come on in," he said, beaming at her in return. "The pizza should be here in just a few minutes."

"Great," she replied, placing her purse on the table. "I'm starving."

"What are we watching tonight?"

"_Lethal Weapon 3_." Clark raised his eyebrow at her, and she began to explain, "I know we've seen it before, but I…."

"You wanted to ogle Mel Gibson?" he asked playfully.

"Oh, please, Clark. Give me a break. Besides, you're the one who practically drools every time Rene Russo is on the screen."

"I do not," he protested. When that didn't seem to convince her, he continued, "She's not even my type."

"Oh, yeah? Who is your type then?"

_You are_, he thought to himself. Before he could embarrass himself by verbalizing that thought, the doorbell rang. "Pizza's here," he said quickly, moving toward the door and away from his near-declaration.

Lois frowned, wondering what he was about to say. Afraid to pursue it, however, she popped the video into the VCR and sat down on the couch.

Clark soon joined her, pizza and paper plates in hand. He settled on the couch beside her, and they thus began their Friday night ritual.

An hour or so later, the pizza had been consumed and Lois was snuggled up against Clark. Ever since he had sheltered her from the Prankster, she had taken to resting her head against his shoulder as they watched movies. She so rarely got the chance to be close to him, and she found that she needed the reassurance of his arm around her.

Tonight, though, she sat up abruptly and paused the movie. Clark looked at her quizzically, and she asked, "Clark, do you have any scars?"

"What?"

"Well, that scene just got me wondering…I mean, I've never noticed any on you, but I probably just wasn't looking closely enough."

"I don't have any scars, Lois," he said, shifting uncomfortably.

She frowned at him. "But, you have to. You played football, didn't you?"

"Yes, but…," he protested, visibly squirming under her gaze.

"Clark, you can't play football without getting some scars," At his worried look, she challenged him, "What? It can't be shyness, or you wouldn't have answered your door that day in just a towel."

"It's not shyness, Lois. I just really don't have any," he murmured, looking away.

"Come on, Clark," she cajoled. When he didn't seem to budge, she added mischievously, "I'll show you mine."

"Lois," he said in exasperation, knowing that she wasn't going to give up anytime soon.

"See," she said, rolling up her sweatpants to show him her knee. "I got this one chasing down a source. He knocked me to the ground, but a quick leg sweep made him much more cooperative. I think he was more afraid of me than the mob," she stated triumphantly.

"Who isn't?" Clark quipped, his teasing remark masking his sudden awareness of the nearness of her body. Unable to stop himself, he gently reached out and caressed the scar with his fingertips.

Lois didn't seem to notice, however, as she was busy pulling her hair back from behind her ear. "Look at this one," she commanded excitedly, turning her head so that he could look at her old wound. "I got it on my very first story assignment. I followed these drug dealers to a warehouse by the river, and I managed to sneak in without them seeing me."

"Lo-is," Clark interjected, his disapproval evident. _Has she always been so reckless?_

"What?" she asked, her eyes flashing as she turned to face him. "I overheard some amazing information about their operation, and I got the scoop. Perry took notice of me after that."

"Yes, but you got hurt," he replied, slipping his hand into her hair and running his thumb along the smooth outline of the scar.

"Yeah, well, I didn't notice their other, um, associate. He came up behind me and whacked me with a blunt object."

"How did you get out of that one, Houdini? I know Superman wasn't around to save you that time," he said, shuddering at the thought.

"Henderson," she stated simply.

"Henderson?" he asked, silently noting that he owed that officer a nice dinner.

"He got the bust, thanks to my tip, but did he offer me any appreciation? No. He just sent me to the hospital and scolded me for being reckless."

"He was right! God, Lois, can't you get your scars like a normal person…bicycle accidents, falls, general clumsiness?"

"For your information, I have a perfectly normal scar," she stated challengingly.

"Really?" he replied, shocked that she had allowed his "reckless" comment to pass without argument.

She rose to stand before him. "Yes really, Clark. I had my appendix out when I was sixteen," she said, lifting up the hem of her t-shirt slightly with one hand and pushing down the waistband of her sweats with the other.

A sudden feeling of warmth cascaded through his body at the unexpected display, and Clark found himself unable to breathe. He desperately wanted to lean forward and kiss the scar, but she moved her clothing back in place too quickly for him to act.

"Come on, Clark. It's your turn," Lois said, grabbing both his hands and pulling him from the couch.

"But, Lois, I…."

"You're not getting out of this one, Kent. Take off your shirt."

"My what?" he choked, his body on full alert.

"Your shirt, Clark. You've made some outrageous claims, and I'm going to investigate."

She fixed him with a determined gaze, her hands resting on her hips. Unable to deny his partner anything, especially when she was this unwavering, he complied with her request. His shaking hands managed to grasp the hem of his shirt, and he pulled it over his head slowly, unable to move at even normal human speed.

"Let's see what you've got here," she said, her fingertips outlining the search area, and her eyes raking over his body in an effort to find even the tiniest of flaws.

Clark stood rigid during her inspection, his body registering the lightest of touches. He could feel the heat of her breath on his skin, his muscles leaping under her fingertips. He closed his eyes against the erotic image of her hands roaming over every inch of him, trying desperately to calm the growing evidence of his arousal.

He tried to evoke the worst scenes imaginable from his work as Superman to combat his desires, but he was so attuned to Lois in that moment that he could only produce images of her. He remembered Lois as he first met her, a determined, beautiful spitfire who barely acknowledged his existence. He recalled the relief in her eyes when she hugged him so tightly after his fight with Trask. He saw her in seven veils costume, seducing him with her movements and proclaiming her eternal love. Then, he remembered her body under his, the powerful emotions that coursed through him as she began to respond to his kiss in the honeymoon suite. Her lips had parted, and her leg had moved sensuously against his. It had taken every ounce of willpower he had possessed to pull away from her in that moment, but couldn't risk losing her trust by giving in to his desires. _What will save me now?_

Lois, meanwhile, was muttering to herself, unable to conceive of the fact that he had not been marked like everyone else. _Surely, he has scars somewhere_, she thought, her hands moving to the button on his jeans to continue her investigation. Suddenly, Clark was freed from her spell, his hands moving to grip hers tightly.

"Please, Lois," he begged in a strangled voice.

She looked up at him then, her mind finally registering his arousal, his unmasked desire for her. She shivered violently, remembering the touch of his fingertips on her knee and the way his hand cradled her head gently as he traced her scar with his thumb. Then, she recalled with horror what she had been doing to him, the way his muscles contracted at her touch, how his breathing had become ragged as she skimmed his body with her fingertips. How could she not have noticed? He wanted her, and she wanted him too.

"I want to see you, Clark," she breathed, pulling lightly on his waistband in order to make her meaning clear.

"Then see me, Lois," he said, keeping his grip on her with one hand and lifting his other to remove his glasses. "See me."

Confused, she searched his face for answers. What did he want her to see exactly? That he was gorgeous? She knew that already. Boy, did she know it. Even from the beginning, she had noticed those dark eyes, that strong jaw, and those full, soft lips just begging to be kissed.

She had, in fact, found a way to sample those lips within days of meeting Clark. Held captive by Jason Trask and his cohorts, she had hatched a scheme to overthrow the renegade agents. The kiss was ostensibly a means to communicate her plans to Clark, but as soon as she looked into his eyes, it had become so much more. Tucking her hair behind her ears, she had moved toward him slowly, almost shyly. She had reached up for him, her hands framing his face, her thumb stroking his jaw. She might have expected a brief, awkward touching of the lips, but the kiss was soft, sensual, and undeniably passionate. He had opened his mouth ever so slightly, and she had taken his lower lip between hers, unable to resist tasting him with the tip of her tongue. She had eventually remembered her purpose in kissing him, but, in those few moments, his touch had enveloped her with a sense of warmth, security, and love. _It was a lover's kiss…even then, _she realized. _Could he still love me? Is that what he's trying to tell me?_

She looked in his eyes, searching for a sign that he might love her. She found that sign so easily, but her heart began to ache for him when she noticed that his love for her was mingled with his abject fear of further rejection. She also recognized something new in those eyes, an openness that had never been there before. He had always hidden a part of himself from her—she knew that. What had she failed to see? She closed her eyes briefly, seeking clarity, then met his gaze once more. His free hand was pushing his hair back absently, making him look different, making him look….

"Oh my God, you're Superman!" she cried in shock, pulling her hands from his and turning away from him in order to gain needed distance.

"Lois, please," he begged, his voice quavering. "I've wanted to tell you so many times."

Clark continued with his explanation, but Lois couldn't hear any of it. She was lost in her own thoughts and fears, her head shaking back and forth as she hugged herself with her arms. _He's a liar. He's made a fool of me. He's probably been laughing at me behind my back. Stupid, Lois. You're supposed to be an investigative reporter, but you can't even see what's right in front of you. It was a pair of glasses, Lois! A pair of glasses! And, he lied to me. He…he…what did he say about my robe? Did he x-ray me? How could I love him? How could I have let myself be taken in by him? He's just like Claude, just like my father._

Suddenly, Lois felt the gentle pressure of hands on her upper arms, and her angry thoughts were interrupted by the warmth of his touch and the soft pleading of his voice.

"I'm so sorry, Lois. I know what you must think, but I hated lying to you. I hated it! The truth is that I was scared...I just wanted you to love me for who I really am."

Lois stilled under his touch, hoarsely asking, "Who are you, Clark?"

Moving a little closer to her, he began caressing her arms lightly. "You know who I am, Lois. I'm your partner and your best friend, and you may not have realized it, but I'm the man who loves you...so much"

Though she remained completely immobile and silent in the face of his words, Lois' mind was a hive of activity. He was right...she knew exactly who he was. From the day they met, he had been her protector and confidant in both of his guises. He had somehow seen beyond her prickly exterior, and his good nature had transformed her barbs into banter. He was the partner she never thought she wanted, and he touched her in ways she was only beginning to realize. His hands were always there to reassure her, to guide her, to catch her, and to fold her into and embrace. God, she couldn't remember the last time anyone had actually touched her like that. Okay, so Perry was good for the occasional hug, and there was Lex.... She shuddered at the thought. How could she have turned Clark away for Lex? How could she have refused his sincere offer of love? Remembering her painful conversation with Superman, she realized the irony of the situation. _I do love the ordinary man._

"I'll leave you alone now. I'm so sorry, Lois," Clark said, his heartbroken voice halting her inner monologue.

"Clark, wait!" she said urgently, turning to face him. She wouldn't let him go…not now, not ever.

"It's okay, Lois. You have every right to be angry with me."

"Mmm," she replied noncommittally as she moved closer to him and began unbuttoning his jeans.

"What are you…oh," he moaned, as the back of her hand brushed against his shaft.

"I'm investigating, Clark," she replied, a wicked smile on her face. "How will I know that your claims are true unless I see for myself?"

"My…my claims?" he asked, both befuddled and aroused by her touch.

"Superman doesn't have scars, does he Clark?" she asked, dropping his jeans to the floor and running her hands sensuously over his legs.

"N..No," he stammered. _She really is trying to kill me._

"Then I'll have my proof. Now step out of these jeans." He did so, and she tossed them aside.

"You don't believe me?" he managed, stunned by what seemed to be happening. Surely he was dreaming.

"It's not a matter of belief, Clark. It's a matter of evidence. Lift your foot for me." As he did so, she removed his sock, her fingers trailing over the newly exposed skin.

"I could just float," he said, finally recognizing her game.

"Yes, but this is so much more fun, isn't it?" she asked, her right hand massaging his calf. "Now the other one."

He nodded and lifted his foot for her, his sock finding a new home on the top of the TV.

"Turn around," she commanded, and he complied without hesitation. She ran her palms up the back of his legs, pausing occasionally to play with the curly hair she found there. She then began to stand, tracing his taut hamstrings with her fingers and moving upwards to his buttocks, which were encased in a pair of dark briefs. She heard a moan escape from his lips as she explored his body and noticed his hands clenching and unclenching in an apparent effort to remain in control. It thrilled her to know that she could have that kind of effect on him, especially since this adventure was testing her own control. She craved his touch, needing to build upon the physical closeness that had always marked their relationship. _I've never been like this with anyone else. I should have known._

Not interested in dwelling on the past, Lois moved around to face him, her hand caressing his backside as she changed her position. "I've got my proof," she said decisively, staring into his eyes.

"I wouldn't lie to you, Lois." She arched her eyebrow at him, and he stammered, "Uh, I mean, I'm done with it. It was only this one thing, and I never really lied to you, I just didn't tell you everything, and…."

"It's okay, Clark," she said, rushing to reassure him. "I understand. Besides, don't you have an investigation to conduct?" she asked, tracing patterns on his chest with her finger.

"I…uh, what?" _Yep, she's definitely trying to kill me. _

Trying hard to hide a smile, she asked, "Are you going to just take me at my word? I mean, I might be holding out on you. Who knows how many scars I might be hiding?" _God, he's cute when he's confused._

_Oh, so that's her game. _ "Well, in that case, I'm going to need some better lighting." Before she could formulate a reply, she was in his arms being carried purposefully to the bedroom.

"No flying?" she asked, a mild amount of disappointment creeping into her voice.

"Clark Kent is conducting this investigation, Lois. He doesn't fly," he told her seriously.

"It's not the flying…really it's not," she hastened to tell him, desperately hoping he wasn't misinterpreting her.

His face softened. "I know it's not, Lois. I know."

With that, he lowered her feet to the floor just in front of the bed. She expected him to undress her then, but he surprised her by gently turning her head and sliding his hand into her hair. He traced the exposed scar with his thumb, just as he had done before, and then he placed his lips over the wound. The contact was exquisite, and she couldn't help but wrap her arms around him as he continued to kiss her along her hairline.

"Not yet," he whispered softly in her ear. "I'm not done with my investigation."

He pulled her arms away from him and began exploring them, running his hands over her soft skin and tending to the telltale signs of injury. Her elbow held the evidence of a childhood fall and her upper arm the faint mark of another job-related mishap. He caressed each scar gently with his lips, touching her with a reverence that made her heart soar with emotion. His task complete, Clark reached for the hem of her t-shirt, even as he searched her eyes for a sign that his actions were welcomed.

"I want this, Clark," she said solemnly, wanting him to know how much he meant to her. "You're my true partner."

Understanding the significance of her words, he told her sincerely, "And you are my partner…for everything, forever." It was both a statement of fact and a promise. He pulled her shirt from her body and marveled at the sheer beauty of this tiny woman before him. Overcome with emotion, he leaned down and placed a kiss on the skin just above her heart.

Tears formed in her eyes at the sweetness of the gesture. Clark was trying to heal her most painful scar, the wound caused by thoughtlessness and cruelty of her parents, her so-called friends, and the men she had tried to love. She placed her hands on either side of his head and sought his gaze, unable to express her feelings in words.

"I love you, Lois," he told her, gently wiping away her tears with his thumb.

Finding her voice, she replied, "I love you, too, Clark. I don't know why I didn't see…."

"Shh," he murmured, cradling her face in his hands and kissing her gently. "You weren't ready. _We _weren't ready."

Pulling back a little to look at him, she saw no resentment, no anger that she had once spurned his offering of love. She had been afraid—they both had. From the very beginning, there had been a spark, an unseen force that had bound them together despite the obstacles between them. It allowed him to withstand her tirades and her to overcome his seeming unreliability. Their partnership had been surprisingly natural, and she learned to appreciate, and eventually rely on, his contributions. Their working relationship quickly blossomed into a friendship, and Clark became her sounding board, her companion, and her safe haven. She hadn't even realized how integral he had become to her happiness until she had driven him away. Love was not what she expected it to be, so she had been unable to recognize it until Clark was gone. How lucky she was that she had been given a second chance.

She placed her arms around his neck and smiled at him. "I'm ready now."

He returned her smile and lowered his head to hers. "I am, too."

Their lips came together in a sweet embrace, and she opened her mouth slightly. Clark took her lower lip between his and began to suckle lightly, tasting her with his tongue. He then parted his lips and turned his head, opening himself to her. Lois seized the opportunity to take the lead, crushing her lips to his and stroking his tongue with her own. They clutched at each other fiercely, deepening the kiss with each taste, each touch. Eventually, Clark tore his mouth from hers and began planting little kisses along her jaw line. Lois moaned at the loss of contact with his lips, but soon shivered as he took her earlobe in his mouth. "I love you," he whispered, his breath warm against her ear.

Electricity raced through her body, both from the sensation of his touch and the sentiment of his words. "Make love to me, Clark."

He answered her with a kiss and reached behind her to unclasp her bra. After a couple of unsuccessful attempts, he unhooked the garment and slowly removed it from her body. He stared at her in awe for a moment, unable to move. "You're so beautiful, Lois."

She blushed under his gaze, marveling at the sincerity of his appreciation. She had been told that before, but she never believed it until she heard it from him. "You make me feel beautiful, Clark."

He smiled at her once more and moved toward her, cupping her breasts in his hands. He savored the weight and feel of them for a moment, then dipped his head to plant a soft kiss on each nipple. Her body reacted immediately, tightening and stretching toward him as she gasped in approval. He lowered his head once more, his mouth closing over the tip of her left breast. She could hear herself moan as he laved her sensitive flesh with his tongue, circling and stroking her with varying amounts of pressure. She tipped her head back and let the waves of pleasure ripple through her as she buried her hands in his hair. After giving similar attention to her right breast, Clark began skimming his hands slowly down her sides. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of her clothing, and eased her sweats and panties down her body, stopping only to trail kisses along the scar on her abdomen. The cool air did nothing to quell the heat coursing through her. How could it have taken her so long to get this close to Clark?

"Sit down, sweetheart," she heard him say, his voice interrupting her musings. She complied without hesitation, anxious to find out what he would do next.

"Sweetheart?" she asked, suddenly processing the endearment.

"Mmmm…," he murmured, slipping the last of her clothing off of her body. "Don't you like the name?"

"I could get used to it," she managed as he kissed her knee tenderly. "Just don't…ah…," she said, distracted by the feel of his lips on her inner thigh.

"Just don't what?" he prompted, placing a string of kisses even further up her leg.

"Say that…um…around everyone…else," she breathed as his lips traveled along her other thigh. "You'll…oh….you'll ruin my…reputation."

He smiled up at her. "Mad Dog is safe with me. I promise," he told her, rising up on his knees to kiss her thoroughly. "Lie back."

"No, Clark," she said, her determination evident. "It's my turn."

Clark closed his eyes as Lois trailed her hands slowly down his chest. He groaned as her fingers teased his hardened nipples and traced the outline of his stomach muscles. She nibbled at his neck, and, suddenly, he could feel her stroking his erection through his briefs. "Oh, Lois," he moaned, unable to form a coherent sentence in the face of such exquisite pleasure.

"Do you like that?" she asked, circling her thumb over his tip.

"Too much," he managed, grabbing her hand to stop her explorations.

"But, Clark...," she protested, wanting desperately to continue.

Summoning all of his willpower, he spoke. "You can do anything you want to me, Lois, but not yet."

"You're stopping?" she asked, her face stricken.

"No, Lois, no," he assured her. "I'm not stopping. I couldn't. It's just that my investigation is not finished."

"Your what?" she asked in confusion, clearly not following the conversation.

"Just lie back," he said, gently pushing on her shoulders. "Please."

"Oh," she managed, her brain finally recognizing his intent. He hadn't yet kissed all of her scars.

As her shoulders touched the cool bedspread, she could feel his thumbs lightly caressing her outer lips. Heat shot through her as his fingers opened her up and he began kissing her intimately. Each stroke, each nibble, wound her tighter and tighter. Her head tossed back and forth on the bed, her fists grasping the bedclothes in an attempt to cope with the onslaught of pleasure. No one had ever touched her like this, loved her like this.

"Clark," she cried out, urging him on.

He dipped his tongue into her entrance, the tightness and heat threatening to overwhelm him. He was inundated by her taste, her touch, her smell…the noises she was making. He wanted so desperately to join with her, but he also wanted to give her a gift that was entirely her own. Concentrating on her body, he traced her folds with his tongue. He could hear her ragged breathing as his mouth closed over her clitoris.

"Please," she moaned, his ministrations threatening to overload her senses. His tongue was eliciting the most wonderful sensations, and she felt herself stretching higher and higher. _It has to happen soon._ Suddenly, every muscle in her body contracted, and she felt herself soaring above the clouds, awash in ecstasy. "I love you, Clark."

A few moments later, she opened her eyes to find him stroking her hand and watching her intently.

"Hi," she said softly, unable to say more.

"Hi, yourself," he replied, smiling and pulling her into a seated position.

"Thank you," she told him simply, stroking his cheek with her hand.

"You're welcome," he said earnestly, kissing her lightly on the mouth.

Lois returned the kiss, savoring its gentle sweetness. Her hands meandered slowly down his body, and she wrapped her arms around his waist. Clark threaded his hands in her hair, and she began tracing patterns on his lower back with her fingertips. As their kisses slowly built in intensity, Lois slipped her hands beneath the waistband of his briefs and began caressing his tightly muscled rear end. He moaned into her mouth, and she kissed him deeply. Frustrated by the restrictive clothing, however, she broke the kiss.

"Stand up, Clark," she told him breathlessly.

He looked at her questioningly, but he did as she asked. Smiling up at him, she hooked her fingers in the waistband of his briefs and slowly pulled them down his body. She could hear his sharp intake of breath when the material raked over his erection. As the garment fell safely to the floor, she took him in hand.

"Clark, you're gorgeous," she exclaimed, stroking her hand up and down his shaft. "So gorgeous."

"Lois," he hissed as his legs threatened to give out underneath him. He had always known that kryptonite had nothing on Lois Lane.

Grinning to herself, Lois dipped her head and swirled her tongue around the tip of his penis.

"Oh, God," he cried out, gripping her shoulders so that he wouldn't fall on top of her.

Feeling bolder, Lois drew him into her mouth, running her tongue along the base of his shaft.

Electricity shot through him as he gasped for breath. His whole body was on fire, and he knew he wouldn't last long. "Lois, please," he choked out. "Not the first time...oh…not like this."

Lois could hear the heartfelt plea in his voice. As much as she was enjoying giving him pleasure and pushing him to the edge of his control, she knew instinctively that Clark needed a deeper form of connection. Releasing him from her grip, she scooted back onto the bed and settled herself against the pillows. "Come to bed, Clark."

He gathered himself for a brief moment, and then crawled toward her. Covering her body with his own, he gazed into her eyes. "I love you."

She caressed his cheek and encouraged him. "I love you, too. No more waiting."

He kissed her deeply and positioned himself at her entrance. Gazing at her once more, he slowly pushed into her, marveling at the feel of her body welcoming him. He paused for a moment, allowing them both to revel in their joining. _How did I get so lucky? _

The urge to move became too powerful, however, and they began rocking together in unison. The world became a kaleidoscope of touches and moans, friction and heat. Rational thought had deserted him, but he found that he was extraordinarily attuned to her. He could feel her love for him; sense her growing excitement as he stroked her from within. When the pleasure became almost unbearable, he felt her pulsing around him, pulling him along with her. He released himself inside her then, sharing himself completely—his love, his life, his future.

They clung to each other in the aftermath, softly kissing as the storm ebbed away.

"There aren't any words…," he began, frustrated by his inability to describe the power of the experience.

She gave him a gentle smile and cupped his cheek. "There don't have to be, Clark. You just told me everything I needed to know."

Moved by her declaration, he kissed her deeply, caressing her with his mouth. After a few long moments, he pulled back slightly so that he could look at her. "All those times I imagined what it would be like to make love to you…I had no idea how powerful it could be."

"You imagined being with me?" she asked, inordinately pleased by his admission.

"I can't imagine being with anyone but you," he replied earnestly. "You're the only one, Lois. You always have been, and you always will be."

"That's sweet, Clark, but surely there have been others," she said, not quite willing to believe his words. "I mean, I know we haven't talked much about your romantic past…."

Cutting her off, he tried to explain. "I'm different, Lois. I mean, I've dated and everything, but I didn't want to become intimate with a woman unless I could share everything with her."

"So that was…?" she asked, pausing to think of the best wording.

"My first time?" he finished for her. "Yes, Lois, you're the one."

"God, you're a fast learner!" she exclaimed, regaining her equilibrium. "You're definitely not a hack from Nowheresville."

"Well, thank you, ma'am," he bantered. "I learned from the best."

She ducked her head upon hearing the praise. "At the _Planet_, maybe. This, I think, was the result of pure natural talent."

"It wasn't me, Lois. It was us," he told her, kissing her gently.

"We do make a great team. It's a good thing Perry didn't listen to me when he decided to make us partners."

"Mmm, yes. A very good thing," he said, kissing her thoroughly. "I've loved you since the beginning, you know."

"Really? But, how could you? I wasn't exactly nice to you."

"It didn't matter, Lois. From the moment you stormed into my interview, I just knew."

"Oh, Clark. You want to know when I figured it out?"

"Miranda's perfume," he guessed.

"Hmm…no, though I should have. I had myself convinced that my reaction was just a fluke, but now I realize that my body understood long before my mind did."

"You don't know how hard it was for me not to give in to you, Lois. You were so determined."

She laughed. "Maybe you should have. Just think how many months we've wasted when we could have been doing this," she teased, kissing him soundly.

"Good point," he replied. He pulled back, looking at her more seriously. "You would have hated me, you know."

"I know. I wasn't ready to trust you yet. Actually, I wasn't ready to trust myself."

"So, was it the honeymoon suite?"

"No," she chuckled. "But, that kiss…I didn't want to stop."

"I didn't either, believe me," kissing her once more. "It took every ounce of strength I had to pull away from you."

"So, I'm as strong as Superman?" she teased.

"Stronger," he replied and was rewarded with a deep kiss from the woman he loved.

A few moments later, he broke the kiss, needing to know how he had earned her love. "So when did you know, Lois?"

"My wedding, actually," she said softly.

Clark looked up at her in surprise, and she continued, "I was looking at myself in the mirror after putting on my wedding dress, and I was trying out my married name when I just burst into tears and said 'Lois Lane Kent.' It was you I was thinking about, you I missed, you I loved."

"Oh, Lois, I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you."

"I stopped the wedding, you know. I never took my vows."

"But, I thought…."

"Perry came in just after. Clark, why weren't you with him? I know you were working with him to gather evidence."

He looked away. "I…."

"What, Clark? Where were you?"

"Luthor trapped me in a kryptonite cage, Lois. I tried to escape, but I couldn't get away until after the ceremony."

She looked at him in horror. "He tried to kill you because of me," she said, her eyes filling with tears.

"Shh, Lois," he crooned, cradling her against him. "He would have tried to kill me anyway. I was a threat to him."

"But it…was… my fault," she stammered, her tears flowing harder.

"Lois, look at me. It was because of you that I found the strength to escape. I wanted to save you, Lois. I had to."

"It shouldn't have happened! You were my best friend, and I wouldn't listen to you. Instead, I went to _him_. I was so stupid."

"No, Lois, no. You were vulnerable, and he preyed on that. If only I had told you that I was Superman, none of this would have happened."

"Why didn't you, Clark? Couldn't you trust me?" There was no accusation in her words, only a desire to understand.

"It wasn't about trust, Lois. It was about fear. I was so scared that you would be disappointed; that you wouldn't love me."

"You thought I only loved the powers?"

"I didn't want to think that, but you refused to see the real me as anything more than a friend."

"Oh, Clark. I admit that I liked the excitement, but I mostly loved his goodness and compassion. They were your traits, my love. I just focused on the safer option."

"Safer? What do you mean?"

"Deep down, I knew that I could never be in a relationship with Superman. I could love him easily because I would never really have to risk my heart."

"What made you take a risk tonight?" he asked quietly, searching her face.

"I don't know, really. It started out as a fun little game, an excuse to do what I'd been wanting to do for awhile now. The more I touched you, the more I realized that I didn't want to stop."

"You were torturing me, you know," he replied with a grin.

She laughed. "I didn't mean to."

Clark raised his eyebrow in response.

"You know how I get, Clark. I just couldn't believe that you didn't have any scars. Finding one was my sole focus…until I finally noticed your reaction, that is."

"I do have scars, Lois," he told her seriously.

She caressed his face. "I know that now, Clark. It must have been so hard for you."

"Sometimes," he replied truthfully.

"Fortunately for you, someone just taught me a foolproof technique for healing them," she stated, flashing him a wicked smile.

"Oh, really? That sounds promising," he said, running his finger down the side of her neck.

"Mmm…yes. I've never felt so good in my life," she purred.

He smiled. "That's nice to know. Can you teach me?"

"I'll do more than that, Farmboy. Come here," she said, pulling him flush against her body and teasing his lips with hers.

"Lois," he moaned, deepening the kiss.

Suddenly, a loud noise from the other room interrupted them. Clark pulled away from Lois, poised to defend her from whatever danger lurked in the darkness. As they listened more closely to the sound, however, they both began laughing. Their long-forgotten video had reactivated automatically.

"I have a new favorite movie," Lois said, smiling widely.

"Mmm…me too," he replied, taking her into his arms and kissing her softly. "Of course, I don't think I will ever be able to get through that scene again without picking you up and carrying you to the bedroom."

"My thoughts, exactly. So, we'll watch it again tomorrow night?" she asked, kissing him deeply.

"Yes, and tomorrow morning…," he added, covering her lips with his, and running his hands up her spine.

"And tomorrow afternoon…," she replied, flicking out her tongue to taste him.

"Let's make it…a movie marathon," he managed, pulling her on top of him and losing himself in her touch.

The movie played on.

---

As the years passed, _Lethal Weapon 3_ became a staple of their movie collection, reappearing in new formats as the technology of the day changed. One night, Jimmy and his wife were visiting and, in a fit of nostalgia, they decided to watch the movie together.

At a certain point in the film, however, Clark suddenly became antsy.

"I think I want some popcorn," he announced, standing up and heading for the kitchen.

"Me, too. I'll help," Lois chimed in, following quickly behind him.

Jimmy and his wife both looked at each other, wondering what had gotten into their friends. They continued watching the movie, however, enjoying the pleasure of spending time alone.

Sometime later, Lois and Clark both reappeared looking somewhat frazzled.

"Where's the popcorn?" Jimmy asked.

"Umm…I ate it all," Clark said, his excuses still lame after all these years.

"Superman again?" Jimmy asked, having long ago been let in on the secret.

Clark began to speak, but Lois cut him off with a grin. "Oh, yes. He was definitely Superman."

"Lois," he whispered in warning, his face turning red.

"You're too easy," she replied with a giggle. "Come on, Superman," she said, taking his hand and leading him to the couch to watch the rest of the movie.

"Do you have any scars, Clark?" she whispered in his ear a few minutes later.

He turned to face her, looking sincerely into her eyes. "Not anymore, Lois. Not anymore."


End file.
